


Overcoming Prejudice

by Bethann, Minniemoggie



Series: Legendary Friendship [15]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Spanking, illustrated story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 01:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bethann/pseuds/Bethann, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minniemoggie/pseuds/Minniemoggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story continues in Tol Eressea, where not everyone welcomes Gimli</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please see the notes at the beginning of this series to understand our alternate universe

Title: Overcoming Prejudice chapter 1  
Author: Minnie and Beth  
The seasons here on Tol Eressëa are less pronounced than home, yet I can feel the chill of autumn as we continue our work on the house. Soon it will be winter and Erestor tells me that there will be snow and it can sometimes be very heavy and prolonged. It has been a busy few months since we arrived on the Lonely Island, but we can actually see real progress on our house now. The roof is finished on the west wing, which means that as soon as the rooms inside are habitable Gimli and I will be able to move in and I am very much looking forward to it.  
We have not bothered to unpack the chests and boxes that we carried with us on The Lady Vonild we have made do with what was in our packs, although we did of course give the letters that were addressed to Elrond and his family which had been given into our care by those we were leaving behind on Arda. We also presented them with a portfolio of drawings and paintings gathered by Estel and Arwen before their deaths, showing their family and life in Gondor. That presentation brought forward many tears but I think offered Elrond some consolation. They often look at them now and have had many of them copied so that others can also enjoy them.  
I am anxious to move into our new house so that I can display some of my own treasures that are still packed away safely and also to see the letters and documents Gimli brought with him. He has refused to say what they contain telling me he was charged to keep them safe until we were properly settled and we will not be properly settled until we have our own home.  
Elrond and Celebrian are gracious hosts but here I have to be on my best behaviour and careful of what I say and do. In my last hundred years or so on Arda I had become accustomed to making my own decisions and choices in my own home.  
My lips twitch as I reconsider that last thought; perhaps I was being a little over optimistic when I said I was accustomed to making my own decisions and choices. In reality there was always Gimli or Adar or Estel there pointing out to me in their own inimitable fashion their views when I was making what they considered to be foolish or hazardous choices.  
I let my gaze return to the house that is rising here in the valley of the elms. It is beautiful or it will be when it is eventually completed although much larger than I expected it to be. When Gimli plans something he tends to do so on the grand scale, and he will not be gainsaid. I have tried on several occasions to get him moderate his designs. There are as I pointed out to him only the two of us. He was not about to be swayed however; he just gives me that look of his and goes on doing what he considers best. After several fallings out over it I have given up arguing for I know I am not going to win.  
The house will be just as Gimli intends it to be and I will have to learn to live with it!  
I smile to myself as I look down into the valley from my perch here in one of the great elms that surround our new land. It is a beautiful peaceful place, one I hope I will someday come to think of as my ‘real’ home.  
The house itself is built in warm honey coloured stone with a slate roof, large windows on every level let in light in abundance and inside there will be traditional wood panelling and stone floors as well as a few innovative dwarfish additions such as running water and a covered in iron stove in the kitchens. Gimli enjoys designing new things and his creations will certainly add to our comfort even if I still believe the house is too big!  
On the days when the weather was too inclement or we were not needed at the site, I have spent much time with Erestor going through storerooms to choose furnishings and discussing with the carpenters what furniture we will require. I have also filled many long evenings carving or decorating panels and other items for the house. I have done my best to incorporate both elvish and dwarven designs in all I have done as I consider the house to be as much Gimli’s as my own.  
Presently I await the arrival of my dwarven friend who has spent the morning talking with the elvish metal workers over some other innovation he has in mind. It amuses me that so many elves have come to learn from my dwarf and that so many of them have taken him to their hearts. Would that all here had done so, but I suppose that was never likely to be the case. The enmity between our two races is of long duration and some seem incapable of leaving the past behind and looking to the future.  
The reason I am sitting here idle, is that I have injured my left hand, not seriously, but sufficient to prevent me from working at anything ‘practical’. I should have been paying more attention, but my mind was wandering as it so often does these days following the paths of my home in the north of Arda, the forests of Eryn Lasgalen my father’s realm. I can recall with utter clarity my last glimpse of my Adar’s face as Gimli and I rode south to take ship into the west and still my heart aches, for I fear I may never have the opportunity to see him again, to feel his arms offering me his support. This fear was of course my downfall, the awl slipped and I managed to gouge out a large chunk of skin from my left hand.  
Lord Elrond has decreed I am to avoid any kind of physical work until the wound is properly healed so I am reduced to dealing with the merchants who are anxious to sell their wares to help us fill the new house.  
I have just sent the last one away. What need will Gimli and I have for fripperies such as he was offering, I stretch and scratch at the injury and as soon as I do so there is a clearing of a throat behind me and I swing round guiltily to see Gimli Gloinson frowning at me.  
“How many times do you have to be told to leave that wound alone?” he demands  
I shrug for I have no intention of answering that particular question. Instead I ask how his morning has gone and wonder at the hesitation that occurs before he answers gruffly. “Well enough Lamb.”  
I recognise the frown that accompanies this response and my heart sinks somewhat. Gimli tries to shield me from what is happening. Yet I know that over the last few months he has been subjected to more than his share of abuse from those who do not recognise his great heart or will not acknowledge his right to be here in the Undying Lands. It is so unfair, after all he has sacrificed to accompany me here, all he does to ensure my happiness it seems hard that he is the one who suffers not me.  
I have pleaded with him to identify who it is that abuses him, but he refuses to say. He insists it is nothing and that it has no effect on him, but I beg to think differently and my hands itch with the need to take action against the perpetrator of such heinous crimes.  
I have attempted to watch, to listen, to follow, but whoever it is hides their movements and true persona well. It is not easy to identify them and Gimli gives me no clues or aid in that endeavour. The opposite is true in fact. He has strictly forbidden me to try and find out the identity of the elf or elves that hurt him with their words and spiteful age-old prejudices. Indeed, he has threatened me with all sorts of foul consequences should I keep trying to do so, but if it means I must submit to a paddling because I will not give up on my determination then so be it.  
My friend deserves better. My love for him is that of a son for a father, and I will do what I need to do to protect him from such unpleasantness.  
While I may be considered still young by the mores of my own people, I have lived long enough amongst mortal kind to know that, Gimli son of Gloin can be hurt just as much by harsh and unjustified words as he may be the cruellest of weaponry. So despite the danger I ask again, if anything is amiss, if anything has been said that should not have been.  
“Of course not, I am merely irritated by the fact that some of the roof slates will have to be recut.”  
It is a good response but not a truthful one and while I know I am treading on thin ice by pushing I still ask what has been said and know I am correct in my suspicions when he snaps, “Enough! Now where is lunch? I for one am ravenous and we have much to do this afternoon. Let it be Laddie. For both our sakes let it be.”

 

xxxxx

The last several months have passed by quickly, for every day is filled with working on what may be the biggest and most difficult building project I have ever been involved in. I have worked on a few in my time from helping to rebuild the Great Gates of Minas Tirith, to settling my own beloved caves in Aglarond, to designing and building the house in Ithilien. But things are different this time for several reasons. One of those being that this is the first time I have worked entirely without any dwarven crews on hand. Oh I worked with men in the White City, and with the elves in Ithilien, but I also had my own people there to assist me. It made things less complicated to have folks about who had been trained in the same ways of crafting things that I had, for that meant I rarely had to stop and explain what needed to be done since our thinking was mostly in the same vein. The crews worked together with impressive precision, so little time was wasted on mistakes and misunderstandings. That has not been the case here.  
Do not misunderstand me, for there are many great elvish craftsmen here who I have had the pleasure of working with. I have quickly come to admire and respect them and have made some great friends among them already. However we still have times when communication breaks down mainly because what seems obvious to me does not always seem so to them and vice versa. I have had to retrain myself to give clear and detailed instructions where with my own people one or two words would have sufficed. It has been challenging to say the least, but when I step back and admire the new roof that now covers the West wing of the house, I know that it is all worth it. With any luck, my elfling and I will be able to move in well before snow flies here in the Undying Lands.  
I smile thinking of the Lad and his dismay at the grand scale of the house I have designed. He sees no reason for such an imposing domicile, for it is just the two of us living there after all. Of course he’d be perfectly happy to pitch a tent next to one of the many streams that trickle through the land or to drag a quilt up to an extra wide branch in one of the giant Elm trees and call that a home, but I for one would rather have something rather more substantial than leaves and branches overhead!  
To be fair, though, I can understand his trepidation for it is rather excessive for just the two of us, but the fact of the matter is that it will not always be just the two of us. In fact my time here is limited and I fully intend to see a finished house before I take my final rest-one that Legolas will be proud to show his father and his people whenever they should decide to follow him here. I have not mentioned that fact for I believe it is best to keep focused on the present and not to dwell on the folks that we’ve left behind back in Middle Earth. Legolas is having a difficult enough time adjusting to his new circumstances without me adding the thought about my future demise or inciting worry over when and if his folks will come. So for now I just ignore his complaints about the size of the house and continue doing what needs doing. Someday he will understand my reasons and if he does not, he and his family will at least enjoy all the conveniences I have added to make life as comfortable as possible for the residents here. Perhaps he will think of me when he is able to fill the deep marble tubs with hot water with only the turn of a handle.  
So for the most part this has been a pleasant task. I know I will never again take on such a meaty project so I am determined to make the most of it and enjoy the process. I have managed to do that so far, for with a few exceptions, folks here have been welcoming and helpful. Of course old prejudices die hard so I have been on the receiving end of some less than gracious comments a time or two. I fully expected that, for some people never change their views and to be fair having a dwarf in their midst is a new idea to the folks here. No doubt some are unhappy with the fact that I have been accepted here by the Valar and believe that that never should have been the case. It is just an unpleasant fact of life and one that bothers my protective elfling much more than it does me for he feels it his duty to defend my honor in spite of the fact that I keep telling him it is not necessary nor even desirable for him to do so. Making a big issue over such childish spite will accomplish nothing productive, so I feel it is best for all concerned to take as little notice as possible to those who would cause trouble.  
Of course there are times when that is easier said than done, especially when it begins to interfere with my work. Snide comments, rude gestures and even outright hostility bothers me very little, for I have dealt with my share of such things before. A dwarf who spends time in elven or even human realms is bound to encounter such, for there are always a few who hold on to past prejudices. This is true of all races, my own included. I know that Legolas suffered such narrow mindedness at the hands of some of the dwarves of both Erebor and Aglarond even though he never complained and for the most part nothing was said within my hearing for it was widely known that I would not tolerate such foolishness. So for the most part I am able to let such unpleasantness flow over me without a second thought but the last couple of weeks have been something of a trial, mainly because of the form this harassment has taken.  
The trouble began about two weeks ago when a new worker was moved to work directly under my supervision after the task he had been working on was completed. The first thing I thought when Tàras was introduced to me was that he looked decidedly disgruntled which proved a couple of things: one that he was not happy with his new assignment, and another that he was considerably younger than the other elves I had been working with for he had not yet developed the ability to keep his features from showing his true feelings.  
All elves seem to me to have practiced this serene look that they wear most of the time when dealing with strangers. In all my life I have only known one who struggled with that particular talent and I had always put it down to the fact that he had not yet reached full maturity. Back in Middle Earth, there were no other youngsters among the elves, but of course here in Tol Eressëa that is not the case though it was still surprising to realize my new crewmember was little more than a stripling. I found it interesting to meet him even though he did not seem to be too fond of the idea of his new task. I was not the only one to notice, for I heard one of the other workers whisper that he should ‘straighten his face and behave,” which he attempted to do immediately.  
It was not long, though, before he was scowling again and very soon it became apparent that it was not the job at hand that irritated him but the supervisor he was working under. Anytime the others were not in earshot he would whisper vulgar slurs under his breath, his eyes shooting daggers in my general direction. But as soon as any others were near who might see him, those eyes became saucer sized and innocent as he returned to his work as if nothing was said. That in itself was not enough to concern me but things became more difficult when he began hindering my work progress. Tools I had been using would come up missing when my back was turned. Materials were rendered useless by being cut to wrong sizes or purposely interchanged with the incorrect stones. Once I found several parchments that contained drawn plans floating in a barrel of water, the ink having smeared beyond recognition. Everything had to be redrawn before we could carry on causing us to lose half a day’s work.  
The others of course are aware that someone is causing this trouble, but I alone know who the perpetrator is. I have no desire for anyone to find out, for while accusing Tàras of wrongdoing might ease things for me right away, it will not do anyone any good for some kind of problem to develop between his family and me, or even worse between his family and Legolas.  
That has been the most difficult part of this whole situation is keeping Legolas from discovering who is causing me all these problems. I have forbidden him from even attempting to discover who it is, for should he find out he will not worry over any consequences that he has to face until after he has thoroughly trounced the little troublemaker. My elfling is not normally a violent person; in fact he is usually very sweet natured and mild, but he can be unreasonable when it comes to what he feels is his duty toward me. He feels honor bound to defend my name because our relationship is virtually that of a father and son. This is even more pronounced here in Valinor because of what in his mind are the sacrifices I have made to follow him to this land and act as a guardian to him as long as I can. For all practical purposes I am the closest ‘family’ member he has here in spite of our obvious differences and lack of blood relationship. I know without a doubt that should he find out who is causing me difficulties, it will not matter what I threaten him with. He will seek revenge on my behalf no matter what it means for him personally. That is a bad combination as far as I’m concerned, for the less trouble we have with the folks here, the better. So it is far better that he remain in the dark on this matter.  
I try to hide the fact that it has been a troublesome day, but it is hard when half of the roof slates will have to be re-cut because of the antics of that pesky elfling, Tàras. It is especially difficult because Legolas has had nothing to distract him since he has been unfit for any kind of physical work since injuring his hand with an awl. After all the years he spent fighting with arrows and knives, a person would think he’d be able to handle a sharp tool without endangering himself, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I’ve half a mind to put him on water carrying duty before he loses a body part, but knowing his accident-prone self he’d slip into the river and break a bone. As it is he is again picking at the hand wound when I walk up behind him where he has been sitting talking to merchants.  
“How many times do you have to be told to leave that wound alone?”  
He drops his hands guiltily and shrugs instead of answering. Immediately he changes the subject by asking how my morning has been and of course picks up on the two-second hesitation that he thinks proves the day has been difficult. Even though he knows it is a dangerous pursuit, he starts in on asking me to tell him who is causing me trouble but he may as well give that up as a pointless exercise. My mind is made up and I do not hesitate to tell him so.  
“Let it be Laddie. For both our sakes let it be.” I turn away considering the subject closed, but he refuses to let it go.  
“But Gimli, how can I let it be? You must tell me so I can put a stop to it.”  
I firmly grasp his chin and bend low to look directly into his furious eyes.  
“If I catch you trying to seek revenge of any kind, even so much as asking too many questions to try to take this into your own hands, you will sorely regret it and no mistake, Lad. Keep that in the front of your mind. Now behave and stay out of it!”  
We stare intensely at one another for several breaths and then he drops his gaze.  
“Good Lad,” I say, patting his cheek. We have a pleasant lunch together and it is not until I have returned to the re-cutting work that it dawns on me that he never did actually make any promises. 

XXXX  
I watch Gimli stomping off down the hill, and I have to smile. My dwarf is indomitable and I am so fortunate to have him here with me, watching over me, and attempting to keep me on the straight and narrow. At the same time I know that he is not quite himself for he has gone back to work without ensuring that I give my word to ‘stay out’ of things. Had he not been distracted as he is by what has gone on I know very well I would have found myself having to give an oath on my behaviour.  
I stare down into the valley trying to spot the source of his present distraction and my current irritation. Everyone is preparing for their afternoons work and despite my annoyance I laugh as I see Gimli wind-milling his arms, doing his best to explain something to us less than ‘knowledgeable’ elves. One of his favourite complaints is our lack of understanding of even the most basic of engineering techniques. Too caught up in tradition he grumbles, cannot open their minds to new methods of working. He has a point of course even though I would never admit it to him. The problem we elves have is that we honour and venerate the past, we preserve it, and we do not look to the future, at least not as much as we should. The mortal races have little time and do their best to not waste it. We have too much time and squander it looking at what was, not what might be.  
For now I have other issues with which to grapple; who is causing so much trouble for my friend?  
While I know we could not presume that everyone here would welcome a dwarf or even a wood elf with open arms I did not expect such hostility at least not from elves that have come here to help us build the house. Erestor told me they had all of them have volunteered their time and expertise and were recommended by Lady Celebrian as they had worked with her on New Imladris so what would make them try and sabotage the building of the house as they have.  
Gimli has sought to keep the problems away from me, but I have heard the cries of distress as many of the slates due to be laid on the roof were found to be of the wrong size.  
An accident? I think not. In fact I know it is not. An occasional error is to be expected. We are not the Valar after all, and even they are not omnipotent. But there have been too many mistakes of late for them all to be coincidental; someone or some persons are doing their best to wreak havoc on our project. Why that is I cannot tell, but I intend to find out, and if by doing so I raise the ire of Gimli Gloinson so be it.  
As I do my best to work out who or what is to blame, it occurs to me that I could ask Ressor about the elves who are working on site. He would know them and no doubt checked all their credentials before sending them to work on the house. What is more, were he to even suspect someone was less than sympathetic to our cause he would never have allowed them to enter into employment. For well do I know that Erestor has a great fondness for Gimli and a great love for me, which goes back to when I was the merest of elflings and was sent to Imladris to escape the fighting around Dol Guldar.  
Yet just as soon as I the idea of asking Ressor comes to mind I reject it. Erestor would be suspicious of any attempt on my behalf to find out about the elves who are working on the house at this late date. Ressor has the uncomfortable ability to see into my heart and he would be bound to ask me why I wished to know, any attempt at prevarication would be doomed to failure. Yet were I to tell him of my suspicions, he would immediately inform Gimli and since Gimli has already warned me to stay out of things, the outcome of that revelation could only lead to ‘pain’ for me.  
I scratch the wound on my arm as I ponder on how I am to find out what I want to know without exposing my rear end to dwarven retribution.  
Then the answer presents itself to me, as the supervisor of the site crosses the floor of the valley to confer with my friend.  
Of course!  
Master Edelharn, an elf of impeccable character, and one of Gimli’s favourites, since he is eager to learn new techniques and apply them to his future work, also an elf that lived in Greenwood and worked for my Daeradar Oropher. Surely, he will know all those working under his charge and may be able to identify anyone who is unhappy with their present employment, what is more he is unlikely to tell Gimli of our conversation, why would he? This will mean my tail will not be under threat from a heavy dwarven hand.  
Still, I am cautious; I wait until Gimli leaves the area where Master Edelharn has set up his headquarters. From his demeanour I would guess that Gimli is going to personally supervise the re-cutting of the slates for the roof, which means he will be out of sight of the house for some time and now would be a good time to go and speak to Edelharn.  
I then wander down the hill, doing my best not to look too eager or to arouse suspicion as I cross over to where Edelharn is leaning over a table with the plans Gimli has drawn open before him. He is conferring with the master carpenter, but when they see me coming towards them they turn from their work and bow in greeting.  
“Good afternoon my lord Legolas,” Edelharn speaks for them both. “If you are looking for Lord Gimli he has just gone over to where the stone cutters are working.”  
“So I saw.” I answer. “I merely wondered how things are progressing; Gimli said there had been a problem with the roof slates, some mis-measuring?” I try and sound casual.  
It is the carpenter who answers. “Many of the slates will need to be re-cut I am afraid, Lord Legolas.”  
“That is unfortunate. I did ask Gimli how such an error could go so long without being spotted.” I laugh and I add, “He only muttered that it was a miracle that the house was being built at all with all the empty space between our pointy ears and our flighty nature, too much singing and not enough concentration.” I continue doing my best to imitate Gimli’s gruff tones.  
“He was not best pleased, indeed I thought he was … oh … “  
Out of the corner of my eye I see Master Edelharn shaking his head to silence him. It is now clear to me that Edelharn has been warned to be cautious over what I am told, damn that cunning dwarf he seems to be forever one step ahead of me!  
The carpenter colours up then he begs my pardon and mumbles something about arranging for some oil skins to be placed ready to cover the wood, in case it rains and hurries off.  
I look skyward and see nothing but blue sky when I look back at Edelharn he merely smiles and shrugs at my comment that it does not look like rain.  
“It is good to be prepared, even so, is there anything else I can help your lordship with?” It appears Edelharn is anxious for me to take my leave!  
But I am not beaten yet, dwarves may be tricksy, but elves can be just as guileful when we must. “No, no, I admit to being thoroughly bored that is all, and merely wanted someone to talk with, I am forbidden to take on any work for another day at least. Are you about to set off on your rounds?”  
Edelharn nods cautiously, I give him my most innocent smile, “May I come with you? There are some working here on my behalf I have not had the pleasure of meeting in person, I understand they joined us after the official start of building and my father always told me it was important to know all of those in your employ.” I can see he is still reluctant to allow me to join him, so it is time to play a little ‘down and dirty’ as Gimli would say, “He learned that maxim from Oropher. You knew my daeradar did you not?”  
I could not have said anything better for Edelharn beams at me “Indeed, my lord Oropher was a fine king, just as I am certain your father is in his turn, my lord, no insult intended.”  
I smile to indicate that no offence was taken and encourage him to tell me more, he is happy to do so.  
“I worked on the house at Amon Lanc after we left Lindon. I was only young then, little more than an apprentice, but I recall his kindness and interest in me and my folk.”  
I already know this of course because Erestor told me when he recommended Edelharn to me, but a little flattery and interest shown can work wonders as I know well. Any thought of trying to put me off accompanying him on his rounds disappears as Edelharn talks of my grandsire and before long I am walking alongside my supervisor and he is happily introducing me to the elves working on various parts of the site. All I have to do now is take note of any who seem unhappy in their present employment, oh and there is the small matter of ensuring that Gimli does not find out the real reason behind my interest. It should be a simple enough task for an elf of my calibre to achieve should it not?  
In short order I have met several elves who have joined our endeavours in the last few months, and all of them seem happy enough to speak with me and many make a point of praising Gimli and his work. I am beginning to despair of finding the person responsible for all the accidents and mishaps that have occurred lately when we come to where the pipes are being laid which will carry hot water into the house from the hot springs in the hillside. This is hard, gruelling work yet I hear singing as we come closer which seems to indicate most are happy with their present tasks at least.  
Edelharn tells me that there is only one new worker here, “His name is Tàras, the youngest of all us by some measure of time I think. Tàras has thoughts of becoming an architect but lacks practical experience of how buildings are built.” He chuckled but not unkindly, “when I interviewed him initially he was keen to show me his designs for a new meeting hall in the town. Totally impractical of course, but then he is young still; I understand he has not yet reached his tenth yeni. His father was keen to find a place for him to gain experience and petitioned his local builder’s guild in Avallónë they told him he could find no better place to learn than here in the valley of the elms since Lord Gimli was a master engineer, builder and innovator.”  
While I am more than happy to hear all this praise for Gimli, well deserved praise I might add, I can hear something more in Edelharn’s voice, an unhappiness, or maybe uneasiness about young master Tàras.  
I look across to where several elves are digging a deep trench and immediately pick out the one I think must be Tàras. He is indeed young, thin; I would suspect he has not yet reached full growth. He has dark hair and grey eyes and is presently looking highly disgruntled as one of the older elves calls to him to stop idling and to put his back into his work.  
“Where does he hail from?” I ask  
“Tàras was born here on the island; his family were originally from Doriath and travelled here after the death of Elu Thingol. Do you wish to meet him?”  
I nod and watch as Edelharn calls Tàras over. The younger elf looks even more belligerent initially obviously thinking he is about to be taken to task over some misdemeanour but then he sees me and he plasters a smile on his face as he approaches and makes his obeisance.  
“Prince Legolas Thranduilion this is Tàras Mirdanion.”  
“Tàras” I give him what Gimli calls my ‘Thranduil’ look, “how are you enjoying your work here? Master Edelharn tells me you are here to learn the fine art of building.”  
“That is so Lord Legolas, my parents believe I will benefit from practical experience before I move onto more theoretical study.”  
It is plain from his tone that he does not agree with their beliefs; it strikes me that he finds this sort of physical toil as ‘beneath’ him. I have met many who held the same kind of view, most of them the spoilt sons of rich parents.  
“My own Adar King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen always stressed the benefit of learning from the bottom up.” I reply hiding a wry smile at the simile as Ada’s way of ensuring my learning often started at my bottom.  
Tàras seems unimpressed so I add, “and there is great satisfaction in seeing work you have partaken in coming to fruition is there not?”  
He has little choice but to agree with me even though he obviously does not think so. He is unhappy with his present position, and I sense he is channelling his unhappiness and placing the blame for it not at his own door but at someone else’s, very likely my beloved Gimli.  
Why he should do so is as yet unknown to me but I will make it my business to find out and ensure that it stops. Intent on making sure I have correctly identified the one who has been causing so much disruption I look directly at him and say “Of course you are also very fortunate to be working under the aegis of one of the greatest architects and engineers that the Undying Lands have ever seen.”  
“And who would that be Lord?” His lips curl and his eyes narrow.  
Such deliberate disdain deserves a better response than I give but now is not the time for retribution so, I call on my long years of training in the diplomatic arts and smile as I respond “ why my good friend Gimli Gloinson of course. You are fortunate indeed to work under his aegis. His talents were well recognized in Arda, by King Elessar and King Eomer amongst many others.”  
“I do not believe I have heard of them my lord. If they were of ‘mortal kind’ like the dwarf then they would mean little to me.”  
His answer is insolent and my teeth grate as I answer, “Elessar was the king who threw down Sauron and reunited the north and south kingdoms. He married Lord Elrond’s daughter Arwen Undomniel. Eomer Eomundson was the king of Rohan after the war of the Ring, when Sauron was finally defeated. He it was who gifted Gimli with lordship of the wondrous caves of Aglarond. I see your knowledge of history is sorely lacking Tàras Mirdanion. Whether that is the fault of your tutors or your own prejudicial blindness I cannot say as yet, but trust me” I move very close to him “I will make it my business to find out, and then …”

There is a significant clearing of throats behind me and as I turn I see Gimli standing beside Edelharn and looking none too pleased.  
“What are you about lamb?”  
Now there are two answers to that question and I am anxious to make sure I give the correct one, for I do not wish to lose face before Tàras. Nor do I have any desire to be hauled off by my ear although I would dearly love to haul Tàras off and make him answer for his impertinence in a fashion that will leave him black and blue.  
So I do not answer immediately merely giving my guardian a sickly smile of greeting while wishing myself some several leagues away from my present position.  
But cowardice in the face of the enemy is not something I wish to be associated with, and Tàras is definitely my enemy now, so I draw myself up to my full height and answer “Merely getting to know those that work for us, and finding out a little about them. It is always wise to know those around you is it not? This is Tàras Mirdanion.” I indicate the young elf beside me. “I was just telling him how fortunate he was to be learning his trade under your eye.”  
Gimli nods an acknowledgement at Tàras but most of his attention is fixed on me. Edelharn takes the opportunity to send the youngling back to work leaving me with a less than happy guardian and the sinking feeling that my days here in the Undying Lands may be coming to a very premature end.

xxxx

 

As I stand poring over the plans with Master Edelharn, I am thoroughly disgusted that so much time and effort has been wasted for naught. But there is no help for it. All of the roofing tiles will have to be re-cut and the ones that we’ve already labored over salvaged as scrap to fill in gaps. The waste of good materials always sets my teeth on edge, but knowing this was no mistake makes it worse. Truthfully I’d like to settle young Tàras myself and be done with it, but the temporary satisfaction of such an act would not be worth the long-term damage it might do. It will not do to make enemies of any of the families here no matter how difficult it is to remain friendly. I will just have to be aware of everything going on and make certain that any other mistakes of this magnitude are caught early and prevented.  
This will not be an easy task and is made all the more difficult because I also need to keep one eye trained on Legolas, who in spite of all the threats of dire consequences I have made, I know is itching to find out who is causing me distress. And if he does find out, I will have to tether him to me to prevent him tackling the offender and giving his opinion on such nonsense in a very aggressive manner. He has been known to act rashly at the best of times, but when his back is up as it is now his impulse control will be almost non-existent. I have watched my elfling carefully for signs of maturity on such matters, but just when I think we are making progress something like this comes up and reminds me that we still have a long way to go. I knew when I came here with him that having him in my charge on a full time basis was part of the package. I have made promises to his father and am flattered and honored by the trust placed in me. Besides I love the Lad dearly, so it is my pleasure to do so, but that does not mean it is not trying at times. When his mind is set about something it is like trying to throw a bloodhound off a scent to get him to leave it alone. And he is determined to seek revenge on the elf who is wreaking havoc on our progress. I am equally determined to make sure that Legolas doesn’t end up with a reputation for being a thug.  
“Just say the word, Lord Gimli, and we can send him away.”  
I am startled by Master Edelharn’s words, for it seems that he is reading my thoughts. I was fleetingly debating whether or not sending Legolas back to Lord Elrond for the day might not be the best course of action. I just as quickly dismiss that idea, for if he is that far beyond my sight there is no telling what he might get up to. Alarming images of him sneaking back here through the treetops to spy on the area and find the culprit pop into my mind. No it is better for him to be where I can see what he is doing. I am about to tell Edelharn this when it dawns on me that he has no way of knowing I even have such concerns. He must be talking about someone else. I am suddenly confused.  
“Send who away?” I ask.  
“Tàras of course. It would serve him right after the trouble he’s caused.”  
“Aye I had gathered that he might be unhappy in his assignment here. It must be an unexpected experience to be working under the supervision of one of mortal kind.”  
Edelharn nods. “It does not excuse his behavior, but he has never seen a dwarf before as he was born here. Shall I tell him to go?”  
It is my experience that fear of the unknown is usually the cause of prejudicial thinking and I have been guilty of it myself. The best cure is education and sending Tàras away in disgrace will only reinforce his views.  
“Nay, that will not be necessary,” I say, “ There is no point in making a big issue and drawing attention to such childishness. I have no wish to start a problem with any of our neighbors.”  
Still something must be done for we do not need any more debacles such as we’ve had today. I’ll have to think on how to handle the situation, but in the meantime I’ll send Tàras to work where he is not in close proximity to any building materials. Digging the trench for the water pipes seems safe enough though I don’t give him this assignment personally, but ask someone else to do it. Taking a direct order from me might not do much to improve his attitude just now.  
“A wise decision indeed, though if he causes any more trouble we’ll have to take action of some kind,” Edelharn says. “Let me know if I can be of any assistance.”  
Looking at Edelharn I can see he means what he says and I make a sudden decision to take him into my confidence. We have worked side by side for some time now and I have come to recognize that he is a good and reliable friend. I feel I can trust him.  
“Perhaps there is something,” I tell him. Edelharn looks at me expectedly and waits for me to go on. I am unsure of how to put this, but decide that I must just be as frank as possible. “I’d greatly appreciate it if ye can help me downplay to Legolas any problems we’ve had or may encounter with the workers.”  
“Any particular reason?” he asks raising an eyebrow.  
Realizing I need allies, I decide to tell him everything about my concerns. No one other than Elrond and a few in his household realize the real nature of my relationship with the lad or the extent of the torment he went through before finally making the decision to sail. I proceed to tell Master Edelharn all of that now, telling him that it is my responsibility to ensure that Legolas gets a good start here, and that that doesn’t include fighting every narrow minded elf in the land, just because he feels it is his duty to defend me. Besides that the child’s health has been fragile and he is only just now showing marked signs of improvement. I would not like him to have a set back now that he is making progress and the fewer things he has to worry over the better. Once I’ve explained everything to Edelharn, he is entirely sympathetic to the situation and promises to keep an eye out and inform me if he notices Legolas starting to get too close to digging up trouble. I thank him for his help in this matter and then we get back to discussing the building plans and then I move on to supervise the cutting of the new roof tiles myself.  
I am at it less than an hour when the master carpenter comes to find me, obviously having been discreetly sent by Master Edelharn. It seems that my elfling has taken a special interest in our resident menace. I do not wait to see what will transpire, but leave my task immediately to go find out what is going o n. Sure enough when I round the corner, I find Legolas trying his veritable best to imitate his intimidating father while standing nearly nose to nose with Tàras and hissing what definitely sounds like a threat to me, though I arrive in time only to hear the last few words.  
“Trust me, I will make it my business to find out and then…”  
Master Edelharn who is standing next to me looks a little alarmed, but I clear my throat meaningfully before Legolas has a chance to voice the rest of the threat. He swings around and blanches a bit at the sight of me and then offers me a rather weak smile of greeting. That alone confirms my suspicions that he was doing something he knew I wouldn’t approve of. I glance briefly at Tàras who somehow looks relieved and incensed at the same time, but he is not my primary concern here.  
“What are you about, Lamb?” I ask giving him a significant look that he will clearly understand.  
He rattles off some contrived story about the importance of getting to know the folks who are working for us, but I am not fooled for one minute, which he well knows. He also should know I am not about to humiliate him in front of Tàras or the others by following my inclination to drag him off by the ear, though it takes all of my self control not to do just that. Instead I wait until Edelharn has sent Tàras back to work leaving me alone with my charge. Legolas looks decidedly uneasy, which is exactly as it should be considering the number of times I’ve warned him about such action! It is an entirely appropriate response for I am not one to make empty promises or idle threats and he knew very well what would happen if he chose to defy me in this matter. I do not say any of this, but just take a firm hold of his upper arm and pull him along behind me toward the stone cutting area where I have been working. His eyes grow wide in alarm and he begins stammering.  
“Gimli, wh…where are we going?”  
“I am going back to work,” I say, forcing him forward when he attempts to stop walking. “Ye’re going to find somewhere to sit where I can see you and wait for me to fetch you to go home. We’ll talk further about this there. We will not discuss it now.”  
I march him over to a place where the useless slate tiles have been stacked and point to indicate that he should sit down and wait for me there. He obediently takes a seat, but he can’t seem to prevent himself trying to back peddle a little.  
“I can explain, Elvellon…it’s not how it looked,” he says hanging on to my sleeve when I turn to leave. I turn around to face him, crossing my arms as I do so.  
“Isn’t it? Because it looked like ye were asking questions ye had no business asking and taking matters into your own hands in spite of my direct order that ye leave it alone. If that’s not how it is, then ye’ve got about two hours until sunset to figure out exactly how to explain to me what I’ve got wrong. And keep in mind how I feel about deceit before you dig yourself any deeper. Now I am returning to work to try to salvage what is left of this day. I will not be pleased if I look up to find ye missing from this spot before I’ve come for ye. Do ye understand?”  
He merely nods in answer, picking nervously at the wound on his hand. There was a time when such an order would have infuriated him to no end, but just now he looks more troubled than angry. Whether this is because he is worried about his immediate future or if he is concerned over the trouble with Tàras, I do not know. I do know that since we’ve arrived on the Lonely Isle he is very uncomfortable if he thinks I am unhappy with him so I let my face relax and push down any residual anger. I deliberately move his uninjured hand away from the wounded one before planting a quick kiss on top of his sun-warmed hair. I warn him again to behave and then go back to my task.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Overcoming Prejudice Chapter 2  
Author: Minnie and Beth

Mercifully the rest of the day passes without anything remarkable occurring. The ride home is quiet as is the meal we share in our quarters after we’ve cleaned up from the day’s toiling. I refrain from nagging Legolas to eat properly for I know he must be nervous about our impending discussion. After all he has been waiting a good long spell and must be in turmoil by now, though he certainly hasn’t said so. As much as he would like to have this over it just isn’t in him to bring it up himself. Still it is time to end his misery, so after the dishes are cleared away, I push my chair back from the table and motion him over to me by crooking my finger. He comes willingly if not a bit reluctantly and stands before me for a mere second before getting to his knees and burying his face in my lap. Automatically my hand finds its way to the crown of his head. The silky strands of his hair slip through my fingers as I stroke the length of it several times before speaking.

“Tell me what happened, Lamb. What were ye thinking?”]

He straightens and looks up at me, angry now. “That insolent little horror should be thanking you on bended knee for allowing him the honor of working under your tutelage,” he spits, “ but instead he’s doing his level best to wreak havoc on our project and make your life miserable in the process. Someone needs to teach him a lesson in respect.”

“I agree with ye, Lad.” 

Legolas looks surprised at my saying this. “You do?”

“Of course I do,” I say. “He’s a troublemaking brat from what I can see, though to be fair he is little more than a child. Still someone certainly needs to teach him some respect. However, that someone is not you. You were told to stay out of it were ye not?”

“Yes,” he admits. “But you didn’t hear him, Gimli! When I mentioned your work with Elessar he just snorted and pretended to have never heard of him. I felt like wringing his neck on the spot!”

Angry tears spring into his eyes and I feel my own heart turn over in understanding. Aragorn’s death still stings for both of us and to have his life dismissed as if his great accomplishments were not even worth remembering was too much for the child to endure in silence. I can sympathize but had he kept out of it as I told him, this would never have happened in the first place. 

“Never mind, Laddie,” I soothe as I place a hand on either side of his face. “Aragorn was a good and noble man and no amount of prattling from some adolescent ninny will change that fact, though I can see why ye were so upset.”

Legolas looks at me expectantly for he well knows that my understanding does not mean I have forgotten my earlier warning. 

“However?” He prompts as he closes his eyes waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hide a smile at this plaintively spoken word before I continue.

“However, young Tàras is not my concern no matter how unseemly his behavior. You are the one I am concerned about. I have sworn an oath to you and to your father to care for ye and help ye adjust to life here. It is my duty to do so and it is your duty to cooperate with my efforts. Ye’ve a reputation to uphold and a good name that I will not allow you to smear by becoming known as a ruffian or a bully. I fully expected ye to obey me in this and I told ye what would happen if ye chose not to, did I not?”

He sighs in resignation. “You did,” he admits, though he hardly looks happy about coming to that conclusion. 

“Very well,” I say becoming brisk and business like, “ye know what to expect then. Come.”

I encourage him to his feet and guide him around to the side where I guide him into place across my lap. It occurs to me that we have been in this same situation in the last six months more often than in the last ten years and though I am not happy with his decision to defy me, I admit to myself that it is encouraging that he at least is now lively enough to get into such scrapes instead of being despondent and ill as was the case not so very long ago. Of course it would never do to say such a thing, so I just get on with proving how strongly I feel about willful elflings who fail to do as they are told. I take a firm hold of his waist and tip him further forward so that his hands land flat on the floor and his hair falls in a curtain around his face. He gasps softly as I peel his leggings down to his knees and then rest a hand on the back of a pale thigh. 

“Since I canna trust ye to obey me, then there is nothing to do except keep a close watch on ye. You are not to go beyond my sight tomorrow without my express permission to do so or ye’ll deeply regret it. Is that perfectly clear, Elfling?”

He says nothing but I feel the slight movement of his brief nod. With one hand I pull him close against me and bring the other hand down in a sharp slap that seems to echo off the walls of the small room we are occupying. A splash of color blooms on one pale cheek and I waste no time in making a nice even pink tone over his backside and upper thighs. He remains stoic for some time, making as little noise as possible at first. But the intensity and volume of the sounds he makes increase in direct proportion to the deepening color of his flesh. So to do the flailing of his arms and legs. By the time his skin is an angry scarlet hue, he is begging for a reprieve and promising perfect behavior for the rest of his lie. Soon afterward he is nearly wailing and frantically trying to extricate himself from my lap. I do not hold this against him as I know his fighting me is not intentional, but I do continue at my task until he has given up the fight and is lying limp and sobbing across my lap. I now reach a hand up under his shirt and rub his back soothingly until he is able to calm down enough to hear my voice once again. He starts to slide from my lap, but I hold him in place for just a moment longer.

“Listen to me carefully, Lamb,” I say. “Your station in life requires a certain standard of conduct and I expect ye to live up to that. I will not allow ye to do anything that will put a blemish on your good name so that means no threatening the workers no matter how annoying and trying ye find them. This ends today, Lad.”

I give him the benefit of the doubt when he sobs something incoherent. I can only assume that he is agreeing with my terms. I ease his clothing back into place over his scorched rear end causing him to hiss in pain in spite of my being as careful as possible. Even so he hurls himself willingly into my arms as soon as I have let him up. I wrap both arms around him and rock gently back and forth, speaking soft words of comfort as I do so.

“It’s over now, Lamb. All is well.” I use a clean handkerchief from my own pocket to mop his damp face for him. It takes several minutes for the tears to stop falling and by the time they do his breathing has evened out and I realize he has fallen asleep. I brush the damp hair back from his forehead and look into his guileless face. Not for the first time I wonder how such an innocent looking creature can manage to find so many ways to get into bother. It is a mystery beyond my base dwarven understanding.

 

XXXX  
Less than a full sun’s turn here I am again sitting on the pile of damaged roof slates under the sharp eyes of my guardian as he goes through todays work schedule. We should have been putting up the last of the roof in the west wing, but it will be several days before the new slate tiles will be ready so Gimli and Edelharn are discussing what we can do instead. Or rather what they can do. I of course am banned from any overt physical exertion, which is probably just as well considering how I am feeling. 

Yesterday as I sat here waiting for Gimli to finish his work for the day I was anxious over what was ahead of me, rightly so given what occurred when we finally arrived back at our quarters in New Imladris but at least I could sit in comfort. Today sitting at all is painful and I know from the way Gimli’s dark eyes twinkled as he showed me to ‘my seat’ that he was well aware how sore I was and how uncomfortable I was going to find sitting for any length at time. However, since it was Gimli who made me that way I knew there was no point in my pleading to be allowed to lie on the soft grass of the hillside surrounding the valley so here I sit, sore and simmering …

I know Gimli thinks that I have ‘agreed to his terms’ that I will leave well alone as far as Tàras is concerned but I have made no such promise. I could not at the very least my conscience would not allow me to do so and there is so much more, things that are more important than tradition. Gimli is my friend, my support. No he is more than that. Here he is my lifeline and the only one I can fully give my trust to. I love him and he loves me as a father to a son and a son to a father.   
What Gimli said to me about my station of life and standards of conduct did indeed strike a chord with me as he hoped it would, almost as powerful as the walloping I received at the hand of my dwarven minder. Gimli invoked the importance those of my kind have about comporting ourselves appropriately at all times but he also reminded me of the importance we place on treating our elders with respect. Even if Tàras has forgotten this key tenet of our culture I have not.  
If no one else will remind him of it I will and while I very much fear that I will be in a great deal of trouble because of it I really do not care. I will not have my beloved Gimli treated in a fashion that belittles either him personally or his race. Still I will have to be careful, for while I am determined that Tàras will learn to respect my friend or at least receive a lesson in manners I have no real desire to suffer another thrashing if I can possibly avoid it.   
Even thinking of such a possibility leaves me shifting and squirming and my movement brings me under the gaze of Gimli who rather than scolding, smiles and beckons me over.  
“Here lad, come and look and this with us. We would welcome your thoughts since this is your house we are building after all.”

I sometimes have doubts as to that fact, since my views are rarely taken into account. I did not want a great house, just a reasonable sized manor; needless to say what is currently under construction bears no resemblance at all to what was my initial brief. Gimli has in my humble opinion delusions of grandeur on my behalf but I have learned that sometimes it is just easier to let him have his head than try to change his mind on matters such as these. Dwarves are well known for their tenacity I would say stubbornness but that is a word I do not normally use within the hearing of my guardian. He does not approve of such language. So, I do not comment on my opinions over the ownership of the house. I am just happy to be on my feet and giving my poor roasted rear end some relief. 

“What is it you are looking at?” I do my best to recognize the part of the design they are working on from upside down but give up eventually and move round to their side of the table and see that they are discussing putting up the frame for the roof in the main part of the house.

The gable walls are in place so the ridge beam needs to be lifted into place before we can attach the rafters. It is a big job and one that will require everyone present to be involved but since we cannot slate the other wing it makes sense to do this rather than waste another day. “When do you want to start?”

Edelharn laughs and says he will go and gather everyone together so that they can be given their individual tasks. Once he leaves I look over to Gimli and as ever it seems he knows what I am about to ask for he answers my unspoken plea almost immediately. “Do not give me that look, lamb. Ye may not scrabble about on the roof.” My face falls but before I can complain he adds “but someone will be needed to guide the dray horses as we lift the ridge beam into place, and no one deals with these four legged beasties better than you do.”

“Thank you.” I am so relieved to be given something to do and not to be forced to sit and watch that I do not even argue when he adds severely that I am to keep in mind what we discussed last evening and am to stay away from Tàras.   
The rest of the morning goes by very swiftly as elves are given their specific tasks and everything we will need is assembled. Gimli grants me permission to go off and check on the horses harnesses although I know he keeps at least one eye on me as I do so. Even so I try to find where Tàras is this day for I would dearly like to at least show him that I have neither forgotten nor forgiven his transgressions of yesterday. I see him finally as we partake of an early noon meal and I am happy to see he avoids looking in my direction. I would go to him but even as I rise to my feet I feel Gimli’s hand on the back of my tunic and find myself re-seated with a bump, which reignites the burn in my rump. The growl in my ear to ‘behave yourself if I know what is good for you’ is sufficiently threatening to have me meekly replying “Yes Gimli.”

I catch another glimpse of Tàras as we assemble beneath the main part of the house to begin our work and with Gimli safely distracted by last minute preparations I brush past him and give him my best Thranduilesque glare. He looks startled and a little alarmed at my actions, which pleases me no end so I go on my way to get the horses who will work the pulleys that raise the ridge beam satisfied that he now knows that I am watching him.

The horses are patient beasts, heavy draft animals used to hard work and very placid, I suspect they know more about what their task is than I do myself, I attach the ropes and check that their feet will not become tangled in the leading reins, then signal that I am ready.

I look up to the walls where those elves that will swing the beam into position are already standing. They are sure-footed and nimble like all our kind and while Gimli wanted to insist on them wearing safety ropes I see Edelharn has persuaded him that such a precaution is unnecessary. Below them are the other workers who have long staves with which to help manipulate the beams into place. Gimli of course is buzzing around like a very enthusiastic bee, trying to be everywhere at once. 

Finally however everything is in place and the order is given for the horses to begin to take the strain as the great beam begins its journey. I encourage the horses to keep up their steady forward movement but then halt as Edelharn shouts out that one of the ropes has caught and we all have to hold our position while it is freed. The beam is now about half way up and because of the delay is beginning to sway back and forth even as someone hurries to disentangle the snarled ropes. 

Gimli calls for the elves with the staves to come and steady the beam. From the corner of my eye I see that one of them has not yet taken his share of the weight and the beam is unevenly balanced. Gimli directly beneath it cannot see this but I can. I drop the leading reins of the horses telling them to hold their places and leap towards him shouting out a warning even as the beam dips more sharply. My heart is in my mouth as I fly forward all I can think of is that I may be too late to save my friend from being crushed.  
I barrel into Gimli putting all the force I can into the collision for dwarves are solid creatures and not moved easily, then roll and drag him with me away from the swaying, dipping beam.  
Gimli’s irate squawk at my attack is almost drowned out by the cries of the other workers as they see the danger and do their best to avoid what would likely be a fatal accident for my mortal friend.

I hold Gimli in my arms as he struggles to sit up, both of us are breathing heavily, me with relief and Gimli with outraged indignation.

“Here now laddie, whatever possessed you to do that…” he starts doing his best to break free of my almost strangle hold. My heart is now hammering and fluttering, all I want to do is hold onto him to reassure myself that all is well. But he is already looking up and having seen the cause of my headlong flight he surges to his feet calling out orders.

“The horses lamb,” he hauls me to my feet thrusting me back up the slope. “Back them up! We need to get that misbegotten piece of wood on the ground. Hurry now.” 

There is a flurry of activity, the tangled ropes freed, the danger averted. I unhitch the horses thanking them for their efforts then turn back toward the house. Gimli is examining the ropes and talking to Edelharn as if nothing had happened. In sharp contrast I realise my legs are trembling, my eyes are filling with tears and I feel sick. I sit down with a thump and not even the sting in my rear is sufficient to clear my thoughts and fears. My mind is in turmoil. I could have lost him. He could have died, here trying to do something good for me. Gimli could have been killed. I cannot bear to think about it, but in that short moment of impending disaster I almost lost my second father. My rock, my lifeline, the one who is always there for me … I drop my head between my knees. I fear I might faint.

I am shivering, shaking, in shock, and then Gimli is beside me, putting his arms around me, pulling my head onto his shoulders crooning softly, “Here now, lamb, don’t take on so. All is well. Nothing more amiss than a few bruises, thanks to your swift action.”

I do not care if others are watching. I weep unashamedly, whispering brokenly over and over again, “I nearly lost you. You could have been killed.”

And what would have become of me I wonder, here in this so-called blessed realm, without the great rock to which I cleave. I know deep down that someday my Gimli will die, he is of mortal kind and that is their gift, a gift denied my folk, but that … that is many years away I hope and I dare not even consider how I will deal with such a blow, but to almost lose him to an accident …  
His hands rub circles on my back as he assures me that all is well and that accident like that happen all the time. I cling to him wanting, needing his closeness and his reassurances.   
An accident, my mind replays the scenario as I huddle in his arms taking comfort from his warmth and strength and I suddenly see clearly the face of the elf that was late in taking up position when they were steadying the beam … Tàras!

My fear and concern turn to anger, incandescent anger, that hateful, spiteful, bigoted …  
Gimli can feel the difference in me as my muscles bunch and strain, it is not so long ago after all that we were still fighting Orc and he is immediately concerned and on guard.

“What is it lad?”

“It was no accident,” I answer.

Gimli looks stunned at my pronouncement, “Of course it was lamb. Whatever makes you think otherwise? Who would want to harm me?” 

He is seeking to offer me comfort but I refuse to be comforted. Rather I am now seething, my eyes searching the valley for the one who through his actions almost robbed me of Gimli.

“You do not understand.” I splutter getting to my feet “it was Tàras. He was the one who did not move quickly enough to give support. We both know his dislike of you and his lack of respect but this is a new low even for him. By hesitating as he did he could have killed you; he allowed his prejudice against you to colour his judgement and by doing so he nearly killed you,” I snarl. I catch a glimpse of the miscreant on the other side of the valley. How I wish I had my Lorien bow in my hand I could fell him from where I stand. Of course that would make me a kinslayer not something my Adar would ever forgive and something which I do not believe Gimli or my present hosts would approve of. In lieu of the satisfaction of seeing Tàras fall I will just have to take lesser but probably more satisfying route of beating him to a pulp. My fists ball automatically and my breathing comes more swiftly as I prepare myself for the upcoming confrontation. I turn to Gimli and give him a feral grin as I start down the hill, “And now, he will answer to me for it.”

xxxxx

“Do not give me the look, Lamb. Ye may not scrabble about on the roof,” I say sternly, meaning it this time. Big eyes and a crestfallen look might work on some occasions, but this is not one of them. Edelharn may have convinced me that safety ropes are not necessary for the roof workers, but there is no way I will be able to focus on the task at hand if it is my own elfling balancing up there without benefit of safety ropes and with an injured hand besides. It is not that I doubt his ability to do it but rather that I doubt that my old heart will be able to take seeing such a thing. And since I would like to live to at least see this house finished then it is entirely out of the question. I can see he is disappointed, but when I suggest that he guide the dray horses, he cheers up noticeably. 

Soon all the workers, except those engaged in cutting new tiles have gathered to help put the ridge beam into place. All are given their specific assignments and the equipment is assembled and made ready before we break for a quick mid day meal. Legolas asks permission to check the horses’ harnesses. Asking my consent for such a thing would not normally be necessary, but he knows better than to make a move without my express authorization today. Of course it could also be an act designed to convince me that he is willing to meekly submit to my order that he keep away from Tàras, causing me to be less watchful than I should, which is something I am determined not to do. Since the horses are within my direct line of vision and I have already spotted Tàras some distance away, I grant permission though I make it clear that I will be watching him the whole time.

As soon as he returns I beckon him to sit next to me on the pile of ruined tiles that he has become so acquainted with over the last couple of days. I see that Tàras is coming this way and I will be more comfortable if Legolas is within easy reach. It is not that I do not believe he meant it when he promised better behavior last evening, it is just that I know promises made while wailing over someone’s knee seem to lose their potency in direct proportion to the amount of discomfort currently being experienced and his natural healing abilities seem to be almost completely back to normal. What that means is that in spite of our discussion yesterday, I will still have to be on guard. When he is feeling mulish as he clearly is now even such a serious walloping as he experienced yesterday will be merely a deterrent and not a guaranteed cure. However I intend to use every means I can to prevent a fall out between him and Tàras, even if that means I have to resort to reminding him a hundred times a day that I mean what I say. It is a battle of wills, and I fully intend to prevail. 

I see the exact moment when he spots our resident troublemaker, for he stiffens a little and then rises almost without thought. A yank to the back of his tunic makes him sit back down hard. I am satisfied to see him wince slightly, not because I wish to cause him pain, but because a little reminder of how disobedience is dealt with seems practical just at the moment. For good measure I whisper a threat directly into his ear.

“Behave yourself if ye know what is good for ye.”

“Yes Gimli,” he replies meekly enough, though that submissive tone of voice still does not convince me that I can let my guard down. I keep him right next to me for the duration of the break and then it is time to gather everyone together under the main part of the house. In the clamor of organizing everything I lose sight of him for a moment or two, but when I look around for him I am happy to find him where he is meant to be; attaching ropes to the large dray horses.   
I look about to make sure everyone is in place and then give the order to begin lifting the beam. I watch in satisfaction as the huge timber begins to rise and makes it about halfway to its destination before being hindered by something. I immediately spot some ropes that have become knotted, so I call a halt in the proceedings and send someone to work out the snag, while instructing the elves carrying the long staves to steady it while he does so. I am looking up at the great beam and waiting for the word that the problem has been solved when I hear a loud cry of distress. I take my eye off the beam just in time to see a flash of long limbs and golden hair flying and then something hits me full force in the chest, knocking the wind from my lungs and forcing me to the ground. Even as I am protesting this outrageous treatment, I feel Legolas’ weight on top of me as he rolls over me and then drags me several feet before falling to the ground beside me and wrapping both arms around me in a vice-like grip. What has come over the child I do not know at first, but as I am trying to break free from the strangle hold he has on me I look up and finally see what had him so distraught. The beam is dipping dangerously low on one side and is about to come crashing down! My heart leaps in my chest as I see the danger; we must get it back on the ground! 

I bound to my feet, pulling Legolas with me and give him a shove toward the horses as I order everyone else out of the way. Mercifully, the beam is returned to the ground without incident, and I head over to examine the ropes to see what went wrong, for we cannot afford another incident like this one. I would hate to see anyone get hurt while working on our project. I huddle together with Edelharn discussing what might have happened, when I notice him glancing up at something. He catches my eye and inclines his head discreetly toward something behind me. I turn in time to see Legolas looking white as a sheet and then dropping to the ground as if his legs have lost all strength to hold him up. 

My first thought is that he has become ill, but that doesn’t make any sense for he was lively enough to tackle me to the ground less than ten minutes ago. Still it is obvious that something is amiss for even from here I can see he is trembling. He hasn’t had time to get injured, though if his shoulder is as bruised and sore as my chest is from our impact, then perhaps I am wrong about that. I hurry over to find out for myself and as soon as I get close enough to hear his soft weeping it dawns on me what the trouble is. I shake myself mentally for not having thought of it in the first place! What a shock it must have been to see that beam tilting dangerously out of kilter with me standing directly beneath it. Had our places been changed I would be feeling a bit weak in the knees just now myself. 

I drop down beside him and wrap my arms around his shaking shoulder, pulling his head against me with one hand. I speak consoling words, promising that all is well as he chokes out over and over that I might have been killed. I recognize the depth of his despair by the fact that he does not seem to be concerned that others all around us are watching us. While it is not extremely unusual for him to give way to tears in front of me when we are alone, it is unheard of for him to do so in front of anyone else, especially so many we are barely acquainted with. No doubt we make an odd picture to anyone who does not know us well or who is not familiar with our history, yet Legolas does not seem to even notice the surprised and curious stares we are getting.   
Of the elves here today only Master Edelharn knows the true depth of our friendship and I see him waving folks back to their tasks in order to give us the privacy we need. They all hurry to return to their work with the exception of young Tàras who surprises me by continuing to stare, chewing his lower lip and looking decidedly concerned. I cannot fathom who is responsible for that child’s poor manners, but when I frown slightly in his direction, he flushes deeply. Still he does not turn away until Edelharn notices him and physically takes him by the shoulders and turns him back toward the trench where he was digging earlier, sending him off with a gentle shove.

I turn my attention back to my distraught charge trying to help remove thoughts of all the awful possibilities that must be playing about in his head. He clings to me as if he cannot get close enough to prove that I really am perfectly sound, and not flattened beneath that great beam that was nearly my demise earlier. I continue to talk soothingly, hoping the sound of my voice might help.

“It is all right Lad. No one was harmed, and accidents are bound to happen sometimes.” I rub his back as he buries his face deeper into my shoulder and takes a few shuddering breaths as he tries to gain control of his emotions. We sit like this for a little more, me humming softly and him sniffling from time to time and gripping the back of my shirt in his fist.  
I am in no hurry to extricate him from my embrace, but I am about to suggest we take a break from the day’s activities and take a short walk among the trees when he suddenly stiffens in my arms. From long practice my warrior senses shoot to the surface for I have come to rely on the Lad to notice danger before I am aware of it. I look around, half expecting orc or some other fell beast to appear and automatically reach for the throwing axe that used to be a permanent part of my attire. It is not there of course, having become a tool for cutting things rather than a weapon for felling dark creatures since we moved here to this blessed realm. I almost laugh at myself, for there is nothing to fear here, but still Legolas is reacting to something.

“What is it Lad?” I ask as he lets me go and sits up straight.  
“It was not an accident!” he spits furiously. It is such a sudden change in mood that I am frankly worried that he really is in shock. I reach for him in an attempt to offer to calm him, telling him that there is no reason to believe it wasn’t an accident, but he wrenches free and leaps to his feet  
“You do not understand.” He splutters, as angry as I’ve ever seen him. “it was Tàras. He was the one who did not move quickly enough to give support. We both know his dislike of you and his lack of respect but this is a new low even for him. By hesitating as he did he could have killed you; he allowed his prejudice against you to colour his judgement and by doing so he nearly killed you.”

I stand as well, too stunned to respond for a moment, for the change in him is astounding. Mere seconds ago I was comforting a distressed child, and now I am standing before a fearsome, terrifying, warrior. His eyes, soft and frightened moments ago are now hard and fierce though still red rimmed, giving him a rather wild appearance. His narrowed eyes sweep the valley until he spots the enemy and then he grins madly and pronounces his intentions to make Tàras answer for his crimes. His jaws tighten and his fist clenches, causing the earlier wound to break open and blood to leak out from between his fingers. It is a shocking sight and only adds to the image of a determined and crazed warrior hell bent on seeking revenge. 

My natural inclination is to step back out of his way for I am not keen to get in his path when he looks like that. It is easy to see why enemies turn tail just at the sight of him alone! But then I take a deep breath and set my own jaw, for such action would be cowardly and that is not an option. Legolas is my concern and my charge and it is my duty to prevent him ruining his good name whatever the case may be. Uncertain adolescent or formidable warrior- he may be one or the other or both- but I am prepared to deal with either. 

I hurry after him and am just quick enough to grab one wrist causing him to nearly stumble. He tries to break free, but my hand is large and his wrist is slender so that it is completely engulfed in my grasp. He tries to escape by pulling away and then by prying my fingers off him, but he is unable to break away from my iron grip that way. The only way he will be able to get free is by putting up enough of a fight to injure me and that he will not do no matter how angry he is. I know I can count on that. Instead he resorts to trying to convince me to let him go, by swearing and spitting furiously.

“Let me go Dwarf! That little criminal, orc loving, offspring of Sauron, pitiful excuse for an elf, deserves whatever he gets! He tried to kill you.”  
My heart is thudding, but I only increase the strength of my hold on him and do all I can to keep my voice even and calm. “Now, Laddie, we do not know that. Ye must be reasonable.”

“Reasonable? I am being reasonable!” He is again spluttering in his rage. “I did nothing when he aggravated and insulted you, because that is what you wished, but this…this travesty goes beyond the pale. I have already given him more patience than he deserves!” 

I almost laugh at that in spite of myself, for his patience had a lot more to do with a firm hand being generously applied to his backside and a watchful eye being upon him ever since, than it did with any self control he exercised on his own. I manage to keep a straight face as I reply.  
“Then I must insist that ye reach deep inside yourself and continue to do as I have told you to do, for ye’ll not be fighting anyone today. Now heed me, Elfling, and leave off immediately, or I swear ye’ll find sitting difficult for the next week.”

He doesn’t even blink at this sincere threat.

“It doesn’t matter, Elvellon, I’ll endure whatever I must if you will just let me go. It is wrong of me to allow him to treat you this way!” He is nearly pleading with me now, but I only make a grab for the other wrist and force him to turn around and face me.

“That is not how it works, Child and ye know it,” I tell him. “Ye canna’ pay a price to gain free rein to do whatever ye wish, and it is not your job to make Tàras pay for his actions. Rather ye are honor bound to keep your father’s name free from reproach and to conduct yourself in a way that is appropriate for a prince rather than a common hooligan.”

He drops his gaze slightly, which is the first sign that I might be getting my message through that thick skull of his so I continue to press on.

“Not only that, but I expect ye to abide by my decisions even if you do not like or agree with them and I am telling ye right now that I will not allow you to destroy your reputation by lowering yourself in such a way. King Thranduil would never forgive me and I will not have your folks arriving here to find that I didn’t fulfil my sworn duty toward you. ”  
“But Gimli how can you expect me to just ignore this?” He begs me to understand.

I soften my voice, but I do not release him just yet. “I didn’a say ye should ignore it, Lamb, only that ye must not fight. Ye may talk to Tàras, in my presence and once I’ve talked to him first but only after ye’ve calmed down and sworn to keep your hands to yourself. Can ye do that?”

“I suppose so since there seems to be no other choice,” he replies bitterly. “You can let me go now Gimli.”

“I will let ye go when I have your oath that ye’ll not touch Tàras. Otherwise I’ll be happy to hold onto ye all the way back to New Imladris and leave ye in Lord Elrond’s hands until I have time to deal with ye myself. Is that clear?”

He nods reluctantly, but it is not enough.

“Promise me, Laddie,” I insist.

“I swear it, Elvellon. I will not touch him.” 

I can see it pains him to agree to this, but I have left him little choice. I am satisfied to have finally gotten the oath from him that I needed to hear for I know he will not break his word once he has sworn it, though he may find it difficult to live up to. I let go of one wrist and turn the other one so I can see the palm of his injured hand. It is bleeding freely again, likely having been damaged in his spectacular rescue mission, and then made worse by the action of clenching his hands into a tight fist. I send him off with instructions to find the onsite healer who should have some salve and bandages for him and then to return to his former place to await my return. He is reluctant to let me beyond his sight, but when I promise not to take long, he goes off to do my bidding.

As soon as he is gone, I look around the site for Tàras, for it is now beyond time that I do something about him. I have given him the benefit of the doubt and put up with his nonsense as long as I can, but it must end this day. I had hoped he would come around but today was enough and too much. While I do not necessarily think he was out to see me crushed, his lack of cooperation has wreaked havoc with our project and caused drama enough for a lifetime. I will not have my elfling so worked up and distressed as he was today again. This is the site of his future home after all and he should not have to suffer such trauma and grief, especially here. Building our home should be a joyous time, not a vehicle for strife and worry, so Tàras will have to go even if it means offending his parents and causing a wedge between us and our neighbors. It is not as I wished, but he has forced my hand at last. 

I turn to walk back toward the trench, but before I can take a step a soft voice calls my name.

“Lord Gimli.”

I swing around and find to my amazement just the person I was looking for. Young Master Tàras steps out from behind a pile of lumber where he has obviously been hiding and eavesdropping on what was meant to be a private conversation. He has never spoken directly to me without being prompted to do so before and I am thoroughly surprised to find that he sounds almost respectful. Though that is perhaps too little too late at this juncture. However I decide to hear what he has to say. I always pride myself on being fair-minded. 

“What is it?” I ask as tonelessly as I can. “Speak quickly for I’ve had just about enough of your shenanigans.”

He pales at this and begins stammering rapidly. “I…I…did not intend any real harm, My Lord. I was not trying to hurt you, I only…” He pauses and looks about nervously as if desperate to find the right words. “It is just that I…”

“Wanted to prove that you do not take orders from a dwarf?” I fill in the answer for him. “Is that what ye’re trying to say?”

I can see him gulp nervously and then he looks down and nods quickly. “It was very wrong of me,” he admits.

I am not about to disagree with him. “Indeed it was,” I tell him.

“My father would be ashamed of me,” he says sounding sincerely contrite. 

“And rightly so,” I say, hardening my heart to his sorrowful demeanor. “But ye got what ye wanted. Ye’ll be relieved to know that your services are no longer needed here. I’d thank ye to leave immediately.”

“Of course, if that is your wish, Lord, but I would like to stay if you’ll give me another chance. I heard what you said. You saved me from rightful retribution. I never thought that a dwarf would….” He wisely does not finish that thought. “I did not expect or deserve it, nor do I expect you to forgive me, but if you will give me another chance I’ll prove that I can do better.”

He looks up at me with big hopeful eyes and I am almost convinced for I have grown soft of late, though I would hate to admit it. He is very young after all, and not the first youngster to regret his actions. I am inclined to give him another chance but it is not up to me entirely. I refuse to have him here if it makes my Legolas unhappy, no matter how appealing his pleas are. 

“Very well,” I say, making my decision. “I shall speak to Master Edelharn about the matter and we will see what is to be done about you.”

“Thank, you my Lord,” he replies, sighing in some relief.

“Do not thank me so soon, young elf, for you must first speak to Lord Legolas and gain his permission to remain with us, and he will not be as easy to win over as I am.”  
His jaw drops open and his eyes grow wide in alarm at this suggestion for no doubt he realizes how near he came to a sound trouncing this day. He looks so worried that I cannot help smiling ruefully and shaking my head.

“Do not worry, Lad,” I assure him with a sigh. “I will come with ye when ye go to him.”


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Overcoming Prejudice Chapter 3  
Author: Minnie and Beth

I am really beginning to hate these useless slates, yet it appears I am to continue my close association with them, for it is here that Gimli has decreed that I am to await his return.  
My hand itches where the gash has opened up again. The site healer has applied some salve and re-bandaged it and warned me to make as little use of it as possible for the next three or four days or so. It is frustrating for it means it will be longer than ever before I can return to work on the house, another thing to lay at the door of Tàras Mirdanion. That elf has a great deal to answer for.

I have only to think about him for my blood to begin to boil and my muscles to tense. I have to fight with my natural inclination to leap off and find him, but I have given my word to Gimli to stay away from him until he is with me. So here I sit, my anger and frustration growing with every second I am forced to do so.  
But anger is better than fear, and frustration is preferable to terror. I do not need to close my eyes to relive the terror of seeing that beam hovering over Gimli’s head. Call me a coward if you will, but I know I could not have survived in this place without him. Bereft as I am of my own father, I rely more than ever on my second Adar.  
To my shame I used to think dwarves were as dense as the stone they worked. I recall now with embarrassment how I made fun of them. I called them dirt delvers and much worse. I cringe at the memories of how I was wont to treat Gimli when we began our journey together with the ring bearer, but I have learned better now and know how fortunate I am to have Gimli son of Gloin as my friend.

My own father gave my care into his hands when I was away from Eryn Lasgalen. He was so relieved when Gimli pronounced that he intended to make the journey with me into the West for it meant that I would have Gimli’s strength and fortitude. Not to mention his strong right arm to keep me from harm while I began my new life here on the Lonely Isle. To be in danger of losing that because of that idiot Tàras makes me ache to take my knives to his pointy ears but instead I must sit here and ‘behave’ myself …  
Yet just as I begin to build myself up into a new wave of fury a thought hits me as hard as an Uruk-Hai’s black arrow in the back and the effect is similar.

Honesty forces me to acknowledge a truth about myself I would sooner ignore. Through most of my youth I held very similar views to Tàras. Long years of hearing of the treachery of the dwarves in Doriath had bred in me a prejudice and stubborn hatred for the Naugrim that I had no desire to overcome; indeed I was proud of it and did all I could to cause trouble and distress to any dwarves that had the misfortune to come across. It pains me to admit it but I was not as different from Tàras as I would like to believe at his age. I was ignorant and bigoted and it was only through coming to know Gimli as we travelled together that I overcame my prejudices and came to understand that to hate someone because of their race or their history lessened my honour rather than theirs.

Now of course Gimli is my greatest friend and strongest ally, the rock I rely on, the father figure I still have need of on occasions. His patience, his strength, his humour, and tenaciousness are all traits that I have come to love and rely on but had I never been forced into his company by joining the Fellowship I might still be as prejudiced as Tàras.  
It is likely not Tàras’s fault that he feels the way he does he has no doubt been brought up with those opinions and has had no one to show him how erroneous his views are. In such circumstances it is unlikely that my anger will change his mind for him. It will more likely add fuel to the fire of his hatred and make Gimli’s life here more difficult, the exact opposite of what I want to achieve.

I ought to take more note of the fact that my temper still has a tendency to overtake my good sense when those I care for are involved. How thankful I am now that Gimli prevented me from taking immediate revenge on Tàras’s hide.  
Of course that still leaves me sitting here and in more of a quandary than ever. I am no longer angry, but the situation needs to be settled somehow for while I can appreciate what drove his dislike, he still nearly killed my beloved friend. I am still puzzling over how best to deal with this problem when I see Gimli approaching with a reluctant Tàras in tow.

He reminds me of myself once again. He has the same look on his face that I wear when I am about to be made to face up to my many failings by my nemesis. I wonder briefly if Tàras has any idea just how Gimli usually deals with my failings. I certainly hope not since it would do little for my standing here in the Lonely Isle to know that Thranduil’s heir spends far too much time over my particular dwarf’s knee answering for his various crimes.

For now my attention turns from the unhappy Tàras to Gimli and I see he is wearing his most determined expression as he chivvies his charge along. Gimli gives me a look that warns me to be on my best behaviour although he has no need to do so now. I am about to tell him so when an imp of mischief stills my tongue and I don my most haughty mien lifting my chin and looking down my nose at a trembling Tàras.

He drops to his knees in front of me and attempts to grab my hand while gabbling his apologies but unfortunately he snatches at the hand that is already injured and so I pull it away and his face if anything turns even paler as he sees this as my refusal to even listen to his apologies.

“Here now lamb,” I might have known that Gimli would not long remain silent, “You should at least listen to the lad. As the lord of this land it is right that you should mete out justice but you should never do so with anger in your heart and without hearing all that needs to be said first.”

When I remain mulishly silent he adds by way of explanation, “Tàras is very much at fault here. I will not deny it, and neither does he. But he has already offered an explanation and apology to me, and I have accepted it.”

“He tried to kill you.” I spit making Tàras tremble all the more even as he denies my words.

“No lord, I beg of you to believe me, I had no such thought, I hesitated because in my pride and anger I did not wish to take a direct order from Lord Gimli. But it was not my intent to hurt him I swear.”

“Listen to him lamb, aye and remember he is not the only young elf of my acquaintance that has held similar views in his time.”

I sniff at this reminder; trust Gimli to have come to the same conclusion as myself and in all likelihood before I did so as well. That dwarf can be very irritating at times, much as I love him. I cannot help the grin that crosses my face as I think this and needless to say he notices it and demands to know what it is I find so amusing

“Only that I had somewhat belatedly come to the same opinion myself!” I chuckle.

Both hands go to his hips in sheer exasperation “Ye had? Then why did ye let me go on and on like a furnace out of control?”

I drop my head and peek up at him through my eyelashes “I wanted to see your reaction.”

“Why ye cheeky young whelp I ought to …”

He recollects himself just in time for it is one of his rules of which I am profoundly grateful is that his lectures to me are never given in public, and sends Tàras off again, telling him he will speak with him later after we have talked between ourselves.

“Well what have ye to say for yourself?” he demands as we are left alone.

“I am sorry Gimli but I could not help myself I wanted to see your face and give Tàras a scare it was the least he deserved.”

He harrumphs but thankfully does not take offence, although I can tell from the gleam in his dark eyes that I will have to be very careful to keep beyond arm’s length for the rest of today at least. Then we settle down on my pile of slates again, to discuss what needs to be done about Tàras and I listen carefully to what Gimli has to say for no one gives fairer or better advice than my friend.

 

Xxxxx  
Tàras continues to gape at me for a long moment as if he can’t quite decide if he can trust me or not. He would like to follow my suggestion, no doubt, but facing Legolas, who not so long ago was determined to pound some sense into him, must not seem like the wisest course of action. I can hardly blame him. After all the lad was born here in this blessed realm and has never had to face such an intimidating looking foe before and Legolas in full fighter mode is an daunting sight to even the most experienced of warriors. Still if this is ever going to be settled it will have to be done.

“Come, Child, best get this over,” I urge him, “I willn’a let anything happen to ye, I promise.”

Tàras eyes me up and down with a slightly skeptical look obviously wondering if I will be able to live up to that promise.

“No offense, Lord, but will you be able to prevent that?”

“Ye’re the one that eavesdropped on our conversation earlier,” I remind him. “Have I not done so already?”

He flushes and nods but he still doesn’t make a move so I continue to try to coax him. “I cannot guarantee ye won’t be sent away, but I can promise ye’ll not be harmed. Ye’ll feel better for it ”

This time he swallows a time or two, then squares his shoulders, obviously having made a decision. His bravado lasts until we are about halfway across the site and then he hesitates again, but this time I don’t try to talk him into doing what he knows must be done. Instead I take him firmly by the arm and haul him over to where Legolas is sitting waiting for me. I give my elfling a look that is meant to warn him to behave and then I watch as Tàras falls to his knees, begging for forgiveness of his various crimes.

Perhaps it is because I’ve grown maudlin over the years but I am completely convinced that he means it and am inclined to assure him right away that all will be well. Legolas seems to be far less impressed than I am. In fact he remains distinctly cool and unmoved, looking disdainfully down a the pleading elfling before him. I can understand his dismay at Tàras’ actions, but holding a grudge will do no good, so I speak up for the boy, reminding Legolas that it wasn’t so long ago that there was another young elf that held similar views to this one. Legolas shoots me a quick glare and then a sudden grin breaks out across his face as if he is hiding some hilarious secret.

“What do ye find so amusing, Elfling?” I demand.

“Only that I had somewhat belatedly come to the same opinion myself!” he says, giggling like a loon.

““Ye had? Then why did ye let me go on and on like a furnace out of control?” He only laughs harder, ducks his head and looks appealingly up at me.

“I wanted to see your reaction,” he explains unrepentantly.

It is all I can do to prevent myself from tweaking his ear for him for giving me such a run-around. As much as I adore the lad, he can be extremely irritating at times. I start to tell him exactly how I feel about such impertinence, but recall just in time that we should try to at least keep some semblance of dignity in front of Tàras, who is still on his knees. Promising to speak to him soon, I pull him to his feet and send him off before he comes to the conclusion that we are both raving lunatics.

Legolas is still laughing as he offers a token apology for having so neatly fooled me, though he doesn’t seem the least bit sorry to me, especially when he comments that Tàras deserved it anyway. I shake my head at his cheekiness, but sit down to talk about the matter at hand, which is what needs to be done with Tàras.

“I’m glad ye’ve decided to be merciful,” I begin, “ Holding grudges never does anyone any good I always say and we’ll do better to be gracious to the folks here whenever we have the opportunity. I’m proud of you for reaching such a wise decision in spite of your personal feelings toward the boy.”

Legolas looks inordinately pleased with this praise, though he frowns again when I ask what he thinks should be done with Tàras.

“We could lock him in the dungeon for a fortnight,” he suggests, “A week for ruining the tiles and a week for trying to flatten you.”

“A fine idea, but not a practical one,” I answer. “We don’t have a dungeon.”

He gestures at the grand building site, “You’ve designed this immense house that we’ll most likely get lost in, but we don’t even have a dungeon?”

“Never fear, Lamb,” I assure him with a wink. “Ye’ll not get lost. I’ll draw ye a map, but I was told there was no need for dungeons this side of the Sea.”

“Hmmph! A lot they know!” He scowls. “Fine then. He can sit here on these Sauron be damned slate tiles for days without end like I’ve done.”

“Ye’re exaggerating a bit, Lad,” I chuckle. “Parts of two days are not days without end.”

“Same thing.”

“Not exactly, and its your own doing that landed ye here anyway. Besides we’re not looking for ways to punish him, but deciding what he’ll be doing here if he stays.” I remind him.

“Very well,” he agrees, smiling again. “Since you seem so certain we can’t have a dungeon, I’ll be happy for any suggestions you may have.”

“Well, Lad, I was thinking about it and it seems to me that the best way to change prejudicial thinking is by education. It is what worked for us is it not? Being forced together made me recognize your worth and realize my old opinions had been wrong.”

He nods in agreement. “How do we go about accomplishing this?”

“I’ll let the lad work alongside me closely, and when he sees my sterling qualities, he might change his former opinions. He’s likely to be on good behavior after the last debacle.”  
“If you are sure you want to take him on Elvellon. It’s certainly more than he deserves.”

“Fortunately for most of us, we don’t always get what we deserve. Besides, I’ve dealt with greater challenges in my time,” I say, looking at him sideways.

“It’s agreed then,” he says, “though it hardly seems fair.” The earlier scowl returns to mar his features.

“What isn’t fair about it, Lamb?” I ask

“ All I did was talk a little crossly to him,” he explains, “and I’ve been stuck sitting here –rather uncomfortably I might add-for days on end. He, on the other hand, has caused mayhem and destruction and he’s about to be given the honor of working side by side with you.”

He is teasing of course, though I detect a tinge of seriousness behind the jest. And he is right. It isn’t fair. Perhaps I should talk to Master Edelharn and see who is in charge of the child’s care, but that is something to consider later.

“Well, Laddie, things are not always fair, as you should know by now,” I tell him, patting his knee. “Besides that we will do what is best for us and not worry over other folks. Ye were placed in my care, Lamb. Tàras was not.”

“ I know that. He’s a lucky little beggar,” Legolas quips, ducking the slap aimed at the back of his head.

“Any more comments like that and ye’ll soon find out exactly how lucky he is,” I return, giving a quick tug to one braid.

Feeling much more contented than I have in days, I take my leave to find Tàras and bring him back so we can give him the news together.

Epilogue  
The first snowflakes flutter past us as Gimli and I stand on the hill above what is becoming to be known on the lonely Isle as ‘The Great House’. This will be the first winter we have experienced here on Tol Eressëa and we will be spending it in our own home.

Oh, the house is a long way off from being completed; I would think we have several more years of work to do before it will all be fully ready for occupation. But by dint of hard work the west wing at least is habitable, well more than habitable for I have made it my mission to ensure it is also as comfortable as I can make it.

Because although in the months since our arrival Gimli seems to have gained in strength and stamina, I am acutely aware that as a mortal his needs are different from my own and while I can withstand cold and damp I will not have Gimli suffer them if I can possibly avoid it.

So, smoke is already curling up from the chimney, as the rooms we will occupy are made warm. In the kitchen the ranges have been lit and lanterns show where our friends and those that will be working for us are putting the ‘final touches’ to what will be our new quarters. For to my surprise, but no one else’s it seems, many elves who originally lived in Greenwood or Ithilien have come forward offering their services in the house and gardens so Gimli and I will not be forced to look after ourselves as I feared we might. Their presence will add greatly to our long term comfort I am sure.

Today Gimli and I have been sent out of the way, told to spend the day back in New Imladris but neither of us could resist coming to take a look at what is going on.  
We have watched as drays and covered wagons have arrived and been unloaded but we have seen little of what they contain despite our best efforts. Gimli complained earlier that my so called enhanced sight was vastly over rated although he said it with a distinct twinkle in his eyes and I returned the compliment by not telling him that I had seen several barrels of Elrond’s best ale being pushed into the kitchens. Gimli will sniff them out soon enough I do not doubt.

As for the rest of the shrouded items that have been hauled inside I can hardly wait to find out what they are. It is like Yule eve here with all the excitement and anticipation.  
The snow is falling faster now and I turn to check that Gimli is still warm enough. He is wrapped in a fur lined cape, and the hood is pulled up close. The cape was a gift; a gift from Tàras Mirdanion for my friend in thanks for all the support and help Gimli has given him in the last few months.

I do not like to say it but the youngling has turned out to be quite an asset to our team. Gimli took him on as his assistant, after the incident with the roof beam. I was initially against the idea favouring a dark dungeon somewhere, or at least a sound thrashing every day for a year or so for it seemed to me he was being rewarded rather than punished and I could see that it would add to Gimli’s workload but my dwarf was determined. ‘Education is the best way of beating prejudice’ he kept telling me, and he as ever has been proved right. Under Gimli’s patient and forgiving care, Tàras has blossomed and he has learned not to make judgements against folk without good cause. He like myself has come to see that he has been honoured indeed to be taken under the wing of Gimli Gloinson, and I have benefited from the arrangement also, for with two ‘pesky elflings’ to keep an eye on Gimli has had less time to spend on ‘correcting’ my many failings.

It is good to have someone else around to take the blame sometimes.

My thoughts are interrupted by a none too gentle stab in the ribs by a dwarven elbow, “we have been spotted Laddie, here comes Erestor.”

I look down to where Ressor is toiling up the hill towards us, but from what I can see of his face he does not seem cross to see us, rather happy that we are here to be invited down finally to see our new home. And so it proves for as soon as he is within hailing distance he waves at us and urges us to follow him down the hill.

As we arrive at what will be our main entrance until the rest of the house is completed, the door swings open and we are illuminated by a warm all-encompassing light, I falter but a hand on my arm urges me forward and a voice I have long turned to for strength and support says ‘chin up lamb’.

We step over the threshold and are immediately surrounded by friends, staff and those who have helped us build this new house all wishing us well. Through eyes that are suddenly filled with tears I see, Lord Elrond, Lady Celebrian, Lady Galadriel, Lord Erestor, Master Edelharn, and young Tàras and many others who have supported us since we came to the Lonely Isle. All of them waiting to welcome us to our new house, I turn to Gimli and see he is also very much moved by this show of support and care.  
Finally it seems we are home.


End file.
